


Gimmie a C!

by Lexalicious70



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-19
Updated: 2007-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Lex, not Chloe, had drank the love potion in "Devoted?"  Written for the absolut_Lex Joe Phillips Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gimmie a C!

## Gimmie a C! 

by Lexalicious

<http://lexalicious70.livejournal.com/>

* * *

Gimmie a C!   
Author: Lexalicious, for the Joe Phillips Challenge, picture #1 Pairing: Clark/Lex  
Rating: R for language and some sexual content Spoilers: Devoted   
Summary: What if Lex, not Chloe, had drank the spiked Gatorade in the episode "Devoted?" Thanks to hils for moral support and motivational kicks in the rear, and to Jax for constant inspiration, and for nurturing my muse. I am my own beta, so all mistakes are my own. 

Gimmie a C!  
By Lexalicious 

Lex watched Clark stomp away out of the locker room, his heart heavy. He silently cursed the young man for his perceptiveness concerning LuthorCorp's involvement in the Crows, and for understanding the real reasons behind why Lex had footed the bill for the new uniforms. 

I don't know why I'm so surprised, Lex thought to himself. After all, Clark has always been able to get under my skin and into my head. I just want things to be the way they used to be. 

With a small sigh, Lex turned to leave the locker room. On the bench nearest the door sat a large sports keg with a white spigot. Several clear plastic glasses rested upside-down on the slightly rounded top. Lex swallowed; his motivational speech had left his throat dry. He grabbed one of the glasses and filled it halfway full, and then frowned at the color of the liquid. It was bright green, the color of cheap emerald zirconia, and Lex smirked. 

"Well. There's a color only a teenager could love." He mentally cheered the sports drink company for their marketing ingenuity, and downed the drink in two long swallows. He grimaced at the sharp, almost bitter wintergreen flavor and then tossed the cup into the trash before walking out of the locker room and back into the bright fall sunlight. The sound of padded bodies hitting each other filled the air, mingled with the enthusiastic cheers and calls of the cheerleaders as they practiced alongside the football team. Lex paused, his eyes seeking out Clark's tall form. The young man stood nearly a head taller than the others as he crossed the field with them in a loping stride. He seemed to nearly glow in the October sun, and Lex felt a large, hopeless grin spread over his face, almost of its own accord. 

"Clark," he whispered. 

"Clark." 

* * *

The following evening found Clark trudging up the stairs to his loft long after the sun had set. He'd spent three hours after school watching practice tapes with the team, and then had thrown some passes with his running-back on the field. It was nearly nine, and Clark flicked the lights on as he reached the top of the stairs. His heart gave a sudden, startled leap as he saw a figure sitting on the couch in the corner. He stared in disbelief. 

"Lex?" 

The older man leaned forward, smiling broadly. It was a kind of smile that Clark had not seen on his friend in several years, if perhaps ever. It was warm and open, and only for him. Clark took a tentative step toward his friend, his eyes eating up the fact that Lex was wearing his Crows football jersey, which he'd accidentally left behind in the loft that morning, and nothing else. Bare, pale legs, lean and smooth with muscle and dusted with fine reddish hair, tucked up under Lex's thighs as Clark watched. The jersey swallowed the smaller man, and came to just below mid-thigh. Clark swallowed hard and tried not to think about the teasing glimpses of flesh that flickered in and out of view in the front of the jersey, sliding across the perforated material as Lex shifted on the couch. Lex's deep-set eyes, a flashing mixture of blue and grey, locked with Clark's expressive green ones, and Clark cleared his throat hard. 

"Uh. Lex . . . what--what are you doing here, and in my . . . ?" 

"I came to see you, Clark. I wanted to see you. I know that things have been difficult lately, but nothing is more difficult for me than the fact that we've grown apart." He reached out and took Clark's hands, pulling him down onto the couch beside him. Numb with confusion, Clark sat, watching as Lex turned to face him. There was a soft whisper of fabric shifting against bare skin, and that knowing stare pinned Clark again. 

"I know you're angry with me, Clark. I know, and I understand. It's easy to see why you've turned away from me, but I want you to know that I've come here tonight to be honest with you. About everything." Lex leaned forward and Clark made a noise of complete disbelief as Lex took both of his hands and held them. 

"Lex--!" 

"Shhhh. Let me say it, Clark." Fine-boned, slim fingers moved over the backs of Clark's big hands in a pattern of affection and Clark stared down at his one-time best friend, wondering if Lex was having another break with reality. He stammered, and Lex smiled up at him. 

"I'm devoted to you, Clark. More devoted than Lana could ever think of being. I know what kind of girl she's like, and there are things I'd do for you . . . things that she would never do." Lex let go of one of Clark's hands to slide his own up Clark's chest, and then back down, lower, over his hard, flat abs, the taut belly, until the warm, soft palm was brushing over-- 

"Lex! Ohh!" Clark yelped as the slim hand pressed and turned in his lap with a touch that was quick and sure. Lex's lean body surged forward suddenly, pressing into his, the jersey riding up, rustling against Lex's skin, a damp patch darkening the red material to a darker maroon just under the smaller man's flat abs. Clark squirmed as he felt the dampness press against his own belly and caught the smell of Lex's sex as Lex moved closer, and then his lips were captured by Lex's in a passionate, demanding kiss. Clark inhaled sharply through his nose in shock and disbelief, and his hands rose into the air like large, frightened birds, fluttering at shoulder-height, palms out, before reaching out to land on Lex's shoulders. Lex gave a frustrated gasp as Clark pushed him away gently but firmly, keeping one hand on Lex's left shoulder to prevent him from surging forward again, the other sliding down to remove the questing hand from between his legs as the younger boy fought hard to deny the fact that Lex's touch and his kiss had made him more achingly hard than Lana's or Chloe's ever had. Lex seemed to understand this, and grinned up at him. 

"Clark." Lex's voice, rich and low and coaxing, thick with desire, made Clark stagger to his feet before things could go any further. He stuttered something incoherent and stumbled down the loft steps, both hands cupping the aching erection that throbbed against the denim of his jeans as he tried desperately to keep it from spurting its load into his underwear. Lex watched him go, smiling a little smugly, and then he sat up with a sigh. He glanced around the loft and then his gaze fell upon a picture frame that sat on Clark's desk next to a stack of textbooks. Lex rose and walked over to it, frowning as he studied the image of Lana Lang in her cheerleader's outfit, her bright smile sunny and perfect and completely vapid. Lex picked the frame up and ran his fingers slowly over the image, nodding a little. Setting the frame back on the desk, Lex walked over to where his slacks lay over one of the arms of the couch. He fished through the pockets and came up with his cell phone. He reached down casually to stroke the erection that still wept a damp spot onto the slippery fabric of Clark's jersey with one hand as he hit a speed dial number with the other. After a moment, he spoke. 

"Guillermo, it's me. Yes. No, the Armani suit you tailored for me last week fits perfectly. In fact, you did such a good job that I have a special project for you." Lex glanced over his shoulder at the image of Lana once more, pristine and perfect in her cheerleader's uniform . . . the epitome of everything Clark wanted. 

"Listen carefully, Guillermo. This is what I want you to do . . ." 

* * *

Clark grunted and allowed himself to be brought to the ground as he was tackled by one of his own teammates the following afternoon during practice. As he rose slowly to his feet, his mind still a confused whirl from the events of the day before, Coach Teague shouted at him. 

"Come on, Clark! Focus! We've run this play nearly two dozen times over the past two days!" 

"Sorry coach," Clark replied, not meeting the other young man's gaze as he pulled off his helmet. "Guess I've got stuff on my mind." 

"Yeah? Well push whatever stuff you have into the back of your mind and deal with it after we beat the Cougars, all right?" The coach clapped his hands loudly and backed up a few steps to give the boys room, the late afternoon sun glinting off the whistle he wore around his neck. 

"All right! Let's try it again boys!" 

Clark groaned softly and lifted his helmet, but before he could settle it back onto his head, a familiar voice called out his name in a cheerful, enthusiastic voice. 

"Clark! Hey Clark!" 

Clark turned, knowing the voice belonged to Lex, but a part of him realized he must be mistaken because Lex Luthor never spoke in that tone of voice. No, never-- Clark's brain jammed itself furiously to a halt as he watched in disbelief the figure that crossed the field, who was grinning at him brightly with a smile that was just for him. Clark shielded his eyes with a shaky hand. 

Have to be seeing things, must be the sun . . . too much sun, it's overloaded my brain, that must be it because Lex Luthor is not wearing . . . 

"What do you think?" Lex ran up to Clark, panting lightly as he stretched out his arms and turned completely so that his friend could see the cheerleader's outfit from back to front. Instead of a skirt, Lex wore tight red cotton pants trimmed with yellow accents. The blazing red sweater, tailor-made to hug the curve of every muscle on Lex's body, was a slightly altered version of what the girls on the team wore, although it still bore the team's color and logo, the name CROWS emblazoned across the front in finely stitched embroidery. Brand new, expensive name-brand white athletic shoes covered Lex's feet, although the eyelets were laced with red and yellow shoelaces; a touch that, Clark's fevered mind had to admit, was clever. Lex was still smiling up at him, oblivious to the fact that the other boys on the team were starting to point and laugh at him. Despite his disbelief, Clark scowled at them as he grabbed Lex's arm and tugged him off to one side. 

"What the hell is the matter with you, Lex? Have you lost your mind?" 

Lex blinked and his smile faded a little to be replaced with an expression of puzzlement. 

"No, Clark. I only want to be involved in the things you love. You love football . . . so I thought this would be a way for us to be closer. I only want to make you happy." 

"Closer! Lex, you're . . ." Clark shook his head as he looked down at the male cheerleader's outfit again. "You're not a teenager, or in high school! You're a businessman! A billionaire!" 

"I don't care about that anymore, Clark!" Lex snapped. "I don't care about my father's money, or Luthorcorp, or even those damn relics, whatever they are! All I care about is you. Us." Lex reached up and took his hand. "I'm devoted to you, Clark, remember?" 

"Stop saying that!" Clark whispered urgently as the other boys continued to stare, and finally Clark sighed and led Lex over behind the football bleachers, where they would have at least some measure of privacy. "Look Lex, I don't know what's happened to you that's making you act this way, but I promise I'll help you, okay? We'll get you to a doctor." 

"I don't need any doctor, Clark! What I need is for you to understand how I really feel about you! Don't you understand?" Intense blue-grey eyes roved over Clark's face. "I want us to be together. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you. That day on the bridge, when I came to and felt the warmth of your lips on mine, breathing life back into my body . . . and then when I opened my eyes and saw your face, I thought perhaps that I really had died, and was looking into the face of one of God's angels." Lex reached up and touched Clark's face. "I was a fool to push you away. But that's all over now. I'm going to be the man you want me to be." Lex stepped closer and rose up slightly on his toes in order to kiss Clark full on the mouth, capturing his lips with his. Clark groaned, but this time he couldn't deny the instantaneous rush of heat that Lex's kiss caused. Dropping his helmet to the ground, Clark slipped his arms around the smaller man, giving into the passion of Lex's warm lips, which blew away all rational thought. Finally Lex broke the kiss and gazed up at the younger boy, giving him a tentative, vulnerable smile that made him look much younger, and shattered the last of Clark's resolve. While a part of him still understood that something had happened to make Lex act this way, one thing was certain--there was nothing false or forced about his words, or his kiss. Clark's head spun with the realization, the thing that had been there all along, but he had never been able to see because of the fear of the wrong person discovering his secret; yet, Lex had been keeping a secret too, and when it came right down to it, Clark realized that Lex had just as much to lose. Clark reached down and touched Lex's face gently, and the billionaire's eyes closed in bliss. 

"Clark." He sighed, and Clark smiled gently, if a little worriedly. 

"Come on Lex. Come home with me . . . we'll talk, all right?" 

Lex nodded as he took Clark's hand, smiling up at him. Clark smiled back. 

I think I could get used to him smiling at me like that, he thought as he gave Lex's hand a squeeze, and then pulled his loose to rest it on Lex's shoulder as they came around the bleachers and headed toward the parking lot, skirting the edge of the football field. Practice had ended for the day and Coach Teague was nowhere in sight. Clark hesitated and glanced around, and Lex looked up at him. 

"What's wrong, Clark?" 

"Looks like practice is over. I just hope coach isn't mad at me for taking off on him." 

"Hey Kent, what's this?" Danny Tillman, one of the boys who had ragged Clark unmercifully since he'd become quarterback, advanced on him and Lex. "Are you boys trick-or-treating early this year, or is Luthor going to head up the pom-pom brigade for the team this season?" 

"Back off, Danny," Clark snapped. "Lex is-" 

"A little twink who thinks he can buy and sell us because his daddy owns the half the town?" Danny sneered, and pushed Lex hard. Lex stumbled back and landed on his ass with a teeth-rattling thump, and Clark stepped forward. 

"Leave him alone, I said!" 

"Or what Kent? Maybe this is how you got the quarterback position in the first place, huh? By getting into other kinds of positions for Luthor here? Huh? The little cocksucker seems to like you!" 

Clark felt a dull rage throb behind his forehead and his big fists clenched before he turned to help Lex to his feet. Lex brushed his pants off as he glared up at Danny Tillman. Clark patted Lex's shoulder. 

"Come on, Lex." He kept a hand on Lex's shoulder to turn him away from the bigger boy, knowing that despite whatever else was affecting him, Lex's volatile temper was probably still intact. Danny's scowl twisted even further as Clark touched Lex's shoulder, and he rounded the other boy, shoving Lex aside again. 

"You need to be taken down a notch, Kent. You and me, let's go!" Danny raised his fists and advanced on Clark. 

"Leave him alone!" 

The furious shout made Clark start in surprise and then he watched in disbelief as Lex jumped on Danny's back and locked an arm around his throat. Danny gagged and started to flail and writhe, attempting to shake Lex loose, but the smaller man hung on, his expression furious. 

"Lex, no! Stop!" Clark reached for them both and then saw with a kind of dismay that some of the other members of the team, now changed into street clothes, were charging toward them, apparently intent on helping Danny. Clark briefly envisioned what would happen to Lex if he allowed the brawny football players to dog-pile his smaller friend, and he stepped between Danny and the approaching group. Several of them stopped, but two of them faked around him and tackled both Lex and Danny. The four boys went down in a tangle of arms, legs, and muffled curses. Clark hesitated, checking his strength before he waded in and began to pull the bigger boys off his friend. From somewhere near the bottom of the pile, Danny wailed in pain. 

"Get him off! Get him off! The little fucker is biting me!" 

"Lex, let him go!" Clark shouted as he finally pushed the other boys aside and found Lex still hanging grimly onto Danny's back, his even white teeth latched onto Danny's right ear, which was now leaking blood. Before Clark could disentangle them, one of the other boys pulled a large square lighter from his pocket and thumbed the wheel, bringing the flame to life and using it to burn Lex's fingers, forcing him to release his hold on Danny. Lex cried out in pain and tumbled down off Danny's back onto the artificial turf. Danny turned, one hand clapped to his bloody ear, fury in his dark eyes. 

"All right, you little prick! Now you're dead!" 

"Hey . . . hey! Break it up! Break it up, all of you!" Coach Teague's voice rang out as he ran toward the group from the direction of the locker room, and Clark's heart flooded with relief. As some of the boys ran off before the coach could detain them and the others shuffled their feet guiltily, Clark knelt beside Lex. The older man struggled to sit up, nursing his burnt fingers. Clark took his friend's hand and saw while that the skin was red and sore-looking, there was no blistering or serious damage. Lex blinked and gazed up at Clark as if he was amazed to see him there. 

"Clark? What . . . what am I doing here? Why . . ." Lex looked down at himself and his eyes widened in disbelief. He ran a hand over the front of the sweater, and then his mouth tightened as he got to his feet with as much dignity as he could manage. 

"Clark? If it's not too much trouble, could I ask you for a ride back to the mansion?" 

Clark nodded. 

"It's no trouble, Lex. Come on." 

* * *

Lex made the ride back to the mansion in stony silence, sitting ramrod straight in the passenger side of Clark's truck, his hands folded in his lap like an attentive schoolboy. When Clark pulled up to the mansion and killed the truck's engine, Lex opened the door and slid out without a backward glance. 

"Thank you, Clark. I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. If Coach Teague blames you for anything that happened today, tell me, and I'll be sure to let him know that any altercations were my doing." He began to walk away as he spoke, and Clark trotted after him. 

"Lex, please wait!" 

"Clark, I'm busy, as I'm sure you are. Thank you again for the ride." Before Clark could say anything further, Lex slipped through the heavy front door of the mansion, and Clark heard the lock click behind him. His heart heavy, Clark turned and trudged back toward the truck. He climbed up into the cab, and then looked up at the silent stone mansion one more time. After a moment's hesitation, he used his x-ray vision and focused in on Lex. The older man was shrugging on a black silk robe, and the cheerleader's uniform was nowhere in sight. He crossed the study, turned on his laptop, and sat down at his desk. Clark sighed and looked away. 

Everything's back to normal. Lex is back to normal, or at least it looks like he is, Clark thought as he started up the truck and pulled out onto the road that would take him back to the farmhouse. 

But if that's true . . . then why I do feel so unhappy? 

* * *

One Week Later 

"A love potion? You have got to be kidding!" Lois Lane burst into cynical laughter as Chloe frowned at her cousin and handed her several different sheets of paper filled with complex chemical diagrams. 

"I know how it sounds Lois, but it's true! Mandy and her merry band of female cupids were drugging their significant others and turning them from football junkies into completely devoted love slaves!" 

"Yeah? Well from what I heard, the guys on the football team weren't the only ones who were hopelessly devoted to the ones they love!" She grinned widely and leaned forward. 

"Please tell me that someone took pictures of Lex Luthor in that tight little cheerleader outfit he had on? Or better yet, video footage of him prancing around in it in front of Clark?" 

"Lois? Don't you have someplace else to be . . . like college? Preferably one far, far away?" Clark spoke up from the doorway of the Torch office, his arms folded over his chest. Lois glanced up and reddened slightly before getting to her feet. 

"No offense Smallville, but you have to admit, that would make for a great special issue." She skirted Clark carefully as he scowled at her, and she winked at Chloe before slipping out the door. Clark glared after her before stepping into the newspaper office and shutting the door behind him. Chloe cleared her throat and looked elsewhere as Clark paced the area in front of her desk. Finally, she sighed. 

"Okay, the awkward-o-meter needle is way past the danger mark here. Clark . . . talk to me. I showed you the papers we found, and what Mandy and her friends admitted to! The guys they drugged couldn't help themselves, and Lex drank some of their potion completely by accident! He's not responsible for his actions! At least we found out that heat snaps them out of it, and we were able to bring the others who were drugged back around as well. Besides . . . in a few weeks, the newest bizzarro flavor of the month will crop up in Smallville, and everyone will forget about what Lex did." 

Clark stopped pacing and looked down at Chloe with pleading green eyes, and Chloe frowned as she rose to her feet. 

"Except maybe for Clark Kent. Clark . . . what is it? You're not worried about Lex, are you? You and he have been on the outs for awhile now!" 

"Yeah," Clark sighed. "Except that he said things to me that I can't forget, Chloe. And I don't think it was just because of the potion. I think he'd been wanting to say them for a long time, but he didn't know how. I think the potion might have swept his inhibitions away, but the things he said . . . he meant them." 

"What kind of things, Clark?" Chloe asked softly, and Clark resumed his pacing. 

"He said that he was sorry for pushing me away, and that he understood why I'd been so angry at him, but that it was all in the past now, and that he was going to be the man that I wanted him to be. That . . ." 

"That he was devoted to you? Clark . . . all of the victims of the potion said that!" 

Clark nodded a little. "He did say that. But he also said that he loved me. That he always has." 

"He loves you!" Chloe's brows shot up and vanished under her bangs. "And . . . I assume he didn't mean as just a friend, am I right?" 

Clark shook his head slowly. "Trust me Chloe. He made his meaning very clear." 

"Poor Lex," Chloe sighed. "Well, have you figured out how to let him down easily?" 

"Not . . . exactly." Clark replied, and Chloe began to reply when suddenly she caught the full meaning of Clark's words. She stared at him, and Clark blushed hard. 

"But Clark! You're not . . . I mean, Lana, and . . . we went to prom together! How can you--my God, are you sure?" 

"I don't know what I'm sure of, Chloe." Clark sighed and headed for the door. "I'm going to try and see him . . . he hasn't been accepting any of my calls." He gave her a small smile. "See you later." 

"Good luck," She replied, and shook her head in mild disbelief as Clark walked out and shut the door behind him. Chloe picked up the chemical diagrams again and looked at them as Clark's footsteps faded away down the hall. 

Clark took his time walking out to the parking lot, which was nearly deserted this time of day. As he approached his truck he saw someone standing next to it, and he blinked in surprise when he recognized the familiar, lean shape. Lex gave Clark a nod as he approached, his long woolen overcoat and white scarf rustling lightly in the cold fall breeze. 

"Hello, Clark." 

"Hey Lex." Clark ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't seen you in awhile." 

Lex gave a wry smile. "Thank you for the discretion, Clark. But you know I've been avoiding the public eye since my . . . misadventure." Lex paused and plunged his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. "Embarrassing as it was, I had to talk to you." 

Panic suddenly flared in Clark's eyes. "Lex, those things you said--" 

"Were true," Lex finished for him softly. "I may not remember everything about what happened, Clark, but I do remember everything I said to you. I remember because they weren't the result of Mandy's potion. It's the way I've always felt. I know I haven't been a good man lately and I'm trying to change that." Lex looked up at him. "All I'm asking for is a chance, Clark." 

Clark's bravery deserted him completely at Lex's words and he rushed ahead with his own, speaking quickly so Lex couldn't interrupt. 

"You weren't yourself, Lex. In your right mind you never would have said or did those things! I care about you, Lex, I swear that I do . . . but I don't think you'll ever be capable of changing. All you can be is Lex Luthor . . . it's all I can ever expect of you. I'm sorry." Clark opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. "I've got a game tomorrow night. You can come if you want; it's the state championship against the Cougars. I hope I see you there. Night, Lex." The door shut with a solid chunk and Lex stepped back slightly as the truck pulled away. He watched it go, and then turned and walked back to his own silver Porsche, his lean shoulders slightly slumped beneath the soft black material of his overcoat. 

* * *

The stands at Smallville High were packed the following evening as most of the town turned out for the championship game. Yellow and red banners waved as the near-capacity crowd screamed and shouted their enthusiasm despite the cold as the Crows, led by Clark, charged toward victory. There were less than forty seconds on the clock when the ball was snapped for the final time. Clark clutched it firmly in both hands and rose to look for his receiver, who was weaving his way in and out of the opposing players and into the end zone. He turned, seeking Clark out as well, and Clark drew his arm back like the elastic on a slingshot, firing the ball in a straight, perfect spiral across the field. His receiver, Kenny Foster, jumped up high and caught the ball with both hands as it landed in the breadbasket of his abs. Two other Cougars jumped him, but the ball had already been caught. Kenny went down, the ball firmly clutched in his arms, and the referee raised his arms and blew his whistle, indicating a touchdown. The buzzer on the scoreboard sounded a moment later, and the crowd went into a wild jubilation as it showed the final score, 35 to 31. Clark grinned widely as his teammates swarmed him, cheering and thumping him on the back. As flashbulbs went off, the Crow cheerleaders raised their voices in a loud cheer. 

"Go Crows go Crows goooooooooooo Crows! Two four six eight, who do we appreciate . . . Clark Kent Clark Kent yaaaaaaaaaaaaay Clark!" 

Clark grinned at them and began to turn away when they began again. He turned back, his brows lifting in curiosity as he pulled off his helmet. 

"This cheer's for Clark now pay attention, we know you love the man we'll mention! Four, six, eight, ten! Give him a chance and try again! Twelve, nine, six and three, he'll be the man you want him to be! Lex Luthor Lex Luthor goooooooooooooo Lex!" The girls parted their sea of pom-poms and Lex walked out from their ranks. Clark stared, amazed, as the blazing red and yellow cheerleader's outfit Lex wore once again clung to every muscular curve on his body. The older man moved toward him, his eyes locked on Clark's. The cheering crowd, the giggling cheerleaders, the babble of voices all faded away into background noise as Clark stared down at his friend. 

"Lex?" He asked in disbelief, and Lex playfully but mildly shook the pom-pom he carried in his left hand in Clark's direction. 

"Hey, Clark." 

"Are . . . are you all right?" Clark asked, his brow furrowed, and Lex grinned at him. 

"Yes, Clark. I feel fine. No illicit drugs, no hallucinogenics, no meteor rock Gatorade love potion. It's me." 

"But why--" 

"You said last night in the parking lot that everything I said or did was because of the potion. That I never would have done or said any of it otherwise. I'm here to prove you wrong, Clark Kent. I admit I had a little help from the girls . . ." Lex turned briefly and winked at the cheerleaders, who waved at him, still giggling and obviously very pleased to be included in Lex's scheme, and then trotted off toward the locker rooms. "My rhyming is terrible and my cheering is probably a lot worse. Besides . . . an impassioned plea by a group of pretty girls on the behalf of another is usually quite effective. The point, Clark, is that I'm here. I'm here, and I still feel the same as I did the other day." Lex reached up and touched Clark's chest. 

"Do you?" 

Clark gazed at him for nearly a minute, and then grinned as he reached out and ran a hand across the front of Lex's tight red sweater. 

"I can't believe you wore this in front of everyone. Again." 

"Anything for a chance to date the captain of the football team." Lex smiled, and Clark reached out to take the hand that still rested on his chest. 

"You really did all this for me?" 

Lex stepped forward and pressed his body into Clark's, leaning into his thigh, letting Clark feel the evidence of his arousal as he stared up into the younger boy's green eyes. This time, Clark didn't pull away, and Lex smiled. 

"It's like I said before, Clark. I'm devoted to you." 

Clark grinned and lowered his head to capture Lex's soft, scarred lips gently with his own, his right hand coming up to raise the hem of Lex's red sweater. He ran his hand lightly over Lex's ribs and across the flat, hard stomach, his cock stirring beneath his uniform, not caring who was watching or if they got angry. Lex sighed happily and pressed closer, his kiss communicating love, desire, and hope. As the crowds bled from the stands and the field emptied the two boys remained, oblivious to all but their rejoining, joyous in their reunion of hearts, bodies and souls. As the stadium lights went out, Clark and Lex's silhouettes joined and then blended as they tumbled down onto the grass together, wrapped in each other's arms. 

Laughing. Kissing. Touching. Devoted. 

The End 


End file.
